Don't Forget About Me
by Just-a-little-girl-who-writes
Summary: The Story of Spot Conlon and Allyson Taylor. -One Shot- It started with 'It was her father's fault really, and her own curiosity as well.' and ended with 'He didn't see her for years after she left. ' Summary isn't the best, I know. But please give it a try?


Hello beautiful people who have clicked on this! The idea of this fic came to me the other day when I was sick. I was banished from my laptop. But now I have it! And now I must write~

THIS IS A DISCLAIMER.

It was her father's fault really, and her own curiosity as well.

"Mother, why did we move _here?" _She said the word 'here' like it was supposed to be spoken in a different language, or she said it too much. Maybe she was just over reacting. But really? This was the second time they moved this year. And whenever she asked why they had moved again, she would always get the same answer; "Allyson, your father has his reasons, I am not sure of why we moved. But we did and that is that." Her mother would always answer. They had been to almost every part of New York already. Queens, Long Island, Harlem, The Bronx, and Staten Island. Now they were in Brooklyn.

He had sold his papes on the corner of her street. Every day for three weeks straight, at 2 o'clock , she would walk down those brick steps, towards his corner. She would buy two papers from him, one for her father, and another for herself. They didn't talk much, except for the small talk. The little 'Two papers, please" "Here ya go dame," He'd hand her the papers and take the two cents from her out stretched hand. Then he would thank her, she'd ask how he was or what was new, he'd simply answer 'Fine, thanks. Yourself?" or "Nothin' much. You?" And she would answer the same way, smiling lightly at him, and pushing the hair out of her eyes. He would nod lightly, then she would turn and walk towards that brick building and disappear inside of it.

That was really it.

* * *

"Mother, please. Please don't leave me. Please!" Allyson begged, sitting at her mother's bedside. Her mother had become utterly ill and was barely able to get out of bed. They both knew that her time was coming. "Allyson Taylor, my darling. Listen to me. I love you, alright? Promise me you'll do everything you can to make yourself happy. Do not do anything that will bring you down, there will not be anybody to pick you up." Her mother explained, holding her hand. Allyson gave a small nod, swallowing the slight fear she had. And with that, her mother had closed her eyes. Her chest had stop moving up and down and up and down and up and down. The fear she had thought vanished had come back quickly, frantically she had grabbed her mother's wrist-hoping to feel a pulse. But nothing. There was nothing but a limp wrist, and the dead body before her. "No." She muttered. "Please mother, no." She had let a few tears slide down her cheeks. She didn't leave that room until the house keeper, Jane, had took her by her hand and led her out of the room.

* * *

She had lasted about a week. It felt a lot longer than a week though. Felt like a year. With her mother gone, all she had left was her father and Jane (who only came once a day to clean the house briskly, then left). And oh god, she hated it. The only light in her life right now was the boy at the corner, whom she bought their papers from. He always had a small smirk on his face once she had come. She wanted nothing more but to have a full on conversation with him. But she knew once she had bought the papers she _had _to go home. Or else her father would get angry, and POOF-there would go her meal.

* * *

One thing she never ever had understood- was marriages. She knew what it meant to be married. It was basically law that stated that you had to be stuck with the same single person for the rest of your life and the female didn't really have any say in it. The suitor would basically ask the girls father for her hand in marriage, and in exchange he would get money or animals, food, whatever it was the man offered.

But the women rarely had a say in who she married. Most didn't get to marry their love. They usually got married at a young age to a much older man, they were taught to cook and clean and care for children.

But Allyson had just turned fifteen. And she didn't want any of this right now. She wanted to live her life the way she wanted to. She would not stand for getting married right now. She wasn't going to let a man with money bring her down, especially if she didn't even like the man.

But her father, obviously did not feel the same way.

"Steven and his family has money, Allyson! Money! You marry him, and we'll be richer then we ever were!" Her father exclaimed. "But we already have money, why do we need so much more of it? And father please, I barely know this man. And really, I don't care to know more about him." She said. Though she hadn't meant to, she had upset her father. Got him the angriest she ever saw him.

"Listen to me. You are going to marry that man. He promises me good money, a lot of money! I don't care if you don't like him! You marry him, and that is final!" He ordered. She stared into her father's eyes. He showed no emotion other than anger and greediness (if that counted as an emotion).

Turning on her heel, she grabbed her winter coat from the parlor, quickly went up the stairs leading to her bedroom. She found an envelope, inside held a lot of money. She was sure she had over fifty bucks in there. She put the envelope in her pocket, put the coat on, then walked out the door without a goodbye.

She took off running, shortly after she had passed the first two houses, her father had gotten out of the house. Cursing her name, yelling for her to come back. She didn't listen, she kept running.

She really didn't pay attention to where she was running though, she ran straight into that Newsboy who she bought those papers from (she had to learn his name soon, calling him that newsboy didn't really sound right).

"Hold on there, doll. What ya running from?" He asked, grabbing her arm. She pulled her arm out of his grip, and reached for his hand. Pulling him along with her as she ran the un-familiar streets of Brooklyn.

"Alright, I ain't running no more. What's goin on?" He asked, pulling her towards an empty alley once she was sure they had lost her father. "Okay. Well that man running after us? That's my father. He wants me to marry this extremely rich guy, who I really don't wish to marry. I barely know the guy." She explained, sighing. "I'm fifteen, I still want to live. I don't want to grow up so fast."

"I know what you mean girlie. I wouldn't wanna get married now eitha, don't get the point of it." He shrugged, leaning against a wall. "What's ya name?" He asked, crossing his arms. "Allyson Taylor. Your name, paper boy?" She answered, mimicking his movements. "Spot Conlon. And I'm a Newsie, not paper boy." He said, a smug expression on his face.

"So your just gonna keep runnin'?" "I guess so. But I have family in Manhattan, I think. My Uncle lives there..He'd let me stay with him, I'm sure. He's nothing like my father." She shrugged. Spot nodded, taking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Inhaling it, then offering her one. _Ladies don't smoke, you bone head! _He scolded himself inside his head. She declined the cigarette politely, shaking her head lightly.

Then they heard the shout's of her name.

* * *

"Where are we going?!" She exclaimed as Spot pulled her along the streets, and up some stairs inside a building. He didn't answer her question until they were upstairs. "Welcome to The Brooklyn Lodging House. For the Brooklyn Newsies." He said, a proud smile on his face. She took a look around, walking up and down the rows of bunks. "I think you could stay the night, sleep in my bunk, if ya want." He shrugged, pointing to the neatly made bed beside him. "Where'll you sleep?" She asked, biting her lip. "I'll knock some kid off his bunk. It's alright, really." He answered. "Thank you." She responded, sitting on the bunk she would sleep on that night.

* * *

"Up. Up. Wake up. Allyson. Wake up. Ally. Up." Spot poked her shoulder with every word, after around ten seconds of it, she was awake. "What?" She asked, sitting up and combing her hands through her hair. "We're going. Look, if ya want to get away from your dad, ya got ta keep moving." He explained, leaning on a cane she hadn't noticed before. "Agreed. Where to?" She questioned, looking at the cane warily then at Spot. "Well, if ya want, we could go ta 'Hatten, take the bridge there. But, that's a bit far from the house-"She interrupted his rambling "We'll take the bridge."

"So, where ya from?" He asked, reaching in his back pocket for his sling shot as they walked. "I was born in Virginia. But when I was little we moved to Queens, then Long Island, then went to Staten Island, before here we lived in the Bronx. The only place in New York I haven't been was Manhattan now." She answered, removing her coat once she felt warm.

* * *

"So, is Manhattan nice?" She asked, swinging her hands back and forth. "Well," He started, aiming his slingshot at a glass bottle on the floor, and pulling it back. The glass shattered when the small rock hit it, making a sound that made her cringe. "It has lots of people. It's loud. Has some crazy rich peoples. And uh, an old friend of mine lives there, so I guess." He finished, giving her a small smile. "Is it, like safer?" She bit her lip, wondering if she had worded that alright. "Are you saying Brooklyn isn't safe?" He laughed lightly, "I mean, it's a bit better than it is here."

"So why were ya stuck in that house for a week? Were ya seeing other Newsies I don' know bout?" He teased, taking off his hat then putting it back on. "I uh. No, I wasn't seeing other Newsies! You're the only Newsie for me, Spot." She giggled a little, then sighed. "My mother died during that week" Her voice becoming quiet.

Now this is where Spot felt bad. He was no good at comforting people. Much less, comforting a girl. So, he kind of just put his arm around her shoulders and gave her that awkward sideways hug thing.

She hugged him back, with a strange smile on her face. Like she was trying not to laugh and trying to frown too. That made him laugh.

As they walked down the street, all you could hear was their laughing as they turned a corner.

* * *

"Oh! In here Spot!" She pulled him into a restaurant, it reminded him of Tibby's a bit. But a little fancier. It was around noon, and they were indeed getting hungry. " , hello dear. How is your father?" An elderly man asked, smiling brightly at her. "Hi Mister Joel. And I wouldn't know sir, but I would assume he's upset with me."She answered, linking her arm through Spot's. "Well. Now who is this young man?" He nodded towards Spot. "Spot Conlon." Spot answered, raising his brow as if to say "Whats it to ya?"

"Very well. A table for two?" Mr. Joel asked, more like said, and lead them to a table.

After eating, Spot felt bad. Ally had paid for the both of them. He really could have. If he had the money, Which he didn't at the moment.

"I'll pay ya back. Promise." He swore as they continued their journey to the bridge, once they got outside. "Spot, it's fine really. You don't have to pay me back, I don't want your money." She shrugged, but he insisted. "I wills, one day. Once I have the money." He said. "Alright, whatever you want Spot." She shook her head, smiling lightly.

"Where are we going?" She asked as he tugged on her arm, pulling her around a corner. "My old apartment building, it's starting to rain and we ain't staying outside." He answered, walking in front of a rundown apartment complex.

He lead her up the long, hallway stairs. It took her a few minutes to realize that the apartments were abandoned. Nobody lived there anymore.

They came up to an apartment. Spot took the key hanging from his neck on a string, and opened the door. Inside the apartment was a single bed, an ice box, an old dresser, a stove, and one cabinet.

* * *

"Let's go up on the roof." He said, climbing out a window and onto a fire case. She followed him, not knowing what else to do. They climbed the ladder and sat on the ledge of the building's roof. She never felt this worried for her life more than that moment. But Spot was sitting next to her. She felt a bit safer with him, maybe it was because he was a boy. And a boy could protect her.

"Spot isn't your real name, is it?" She asked, looking at him. "Nope." He shrugged, looking down at the city below them. "What's your name then?" She questioned, getting curious now. "..I don't remember. I've been called Spot since as long as I could remembers." He answered after a long silence.

She didn't say anything, as much as she wanted too. But he didn't seem comfortable talking about that topic. Then it started to rain.

He lead her back inside the apartment, told her to sleep on that single bed, and went back outside.

* * *

"Where are we going?"She muttered as he pulled her down the street. "The Bridge, you didn't forget already, did ya?" He answered, grabbing her wrist and keeping her near him in fear of loosing her. "No, I didn't. How long will it be until we get to Manhattan?" She asked, picking up her step as she struggled to keep up with him. "Depends. If we have ta make a few stops, we don't cross the bridge so quick, or where your uncles' live." He shrugged, not knowing what else to say. "They live..They live near the Swedish lady? What's her name..Medda or something, they live near her." She answered, biting her lip hard.

"I know where that is. Now come on' we got to get to the bridge."

"How long are ya planning to stay with your uncles?" "Hopefully until they kick me out. Which they can't." "So, your whole life?" "I guess so." "You ain't gonna miss me?" "Not as long as you visit." "Then ya won't miss me." "Good to hear." She smiled

* * *

"Down this street." She smiled, and god he's never seen any girl so happy. Finally reaching her uncle's neighborhood. They crossed the Bridge a few days ago, then stayed with the Manhattan Newsies, she got taken by the Delancey's, and now she's finally home.

He watched her from a few feet away from the building as she knocked on the door, two men had answered. Her uncles. They seemed confused at first, but she quickly explained and they welcomed her with open arms.

Just before she went inside the building, she ran towards Spot. She hugged him, a huge bear hug, told him to visit and he was always welcomed there. She thanked him, for making this journey with her, and hugged him once more.

Then he watched as she walked into the building, shooting him a smile before she went in.

Slowly, Spot Conlon made his way back to Brooklyn, where he remained leader of the Brooklyn Newsies.

* * *

Every Saturday, Spot visited her.

On Friday, he went to his apartment, and made his way to her by noon on Saturday.

Evey Saturday she had something interesting to tell him, either it be in a book, or something that happened recently.

He would do the same thing, tell her what's going on in the world, with the Newsies, everything new that happened to him.

This went on for months, and soon he knew her uncles well, and knew her like a book he's read ten times cover to cover.

* * *

"She's in the study, son." Steven, her uncle's partner, had chuckled as Spot asked.

He found her seated in the big fancy arm chair, a huge book in her hand. She hadn't noticed him yet, and he knew that. So swiftly, he walked behind her and placed his hands over her eyelids. "Guess who?" He whispered, and she laughed and jumped out of the seat. She hugged him, throwing her arms around him. "Oh Spot! It's so great to see you," She pulled away from him and was already walking across the room, going to one of the many books on the many shelves. "Oh I found this book yesterday, Robin Hood. It's so amazing, the main character. He reminds me of you, somehow," She rambled, and he listened, nodding his head once in a while. She was happy, that's what mattered to him right now.

Something came over him, he couldn't explain what. But, he walked up to her. Took the book out of her hand and closed it. Then he looked down at her, her brown (or were they green? He could never pick which.) eyes looking up at him. He closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers softly. He closed his eyes, melting into the kiss a little. He felt her eyelashes flutter across his face, letting him know her eyes were closed too.

And she didn't pull away until a minute later. She had a shy smile on her face, and it looked adorable to him.

The next time he visited, she wasn't happy. She was upset, and through the tears that slipped down her cheeks, she explained to him that her uncle and his partner were moving to Williamsburg, Virgina.

He held her close, feeling a bit upset as well. He was loosing her, and just when he had her too.

* * *

When she left, he kissed her once more. Right before she climbed into that carriage, and waved him goodbye.

"I'll write to you." She promised, hugging him once. "I'll write back." He nodded, kissing her forehead. "Don't forget me..Please, just don't forget me Spot." She begged, looking up at him. "As long as you don't forget me, ever." He made her swear she wouldn't.

"I'll be back one day, Spot. And I'll see you again."

He didn't see her for years after she left.


End file.
